Big Machine
by Ling-Hao
Summary: How far is Naota willing to go to find Haruko?
1. Living in the Big Machine

I promise that this time, I will go more in depth with characterizations. Also, I will not be using any conveniently made up main characters. And now I have two friends who want to beta my writing, and therefore better my writing. This idea has been sifting around in my brain for a while, and now I'm finally getting down to it.  
  
Heh . . .this fic is based off of the song by the Goo Goo Dolls, and still I don't really consider it a songfic because its gonna be way more than one chapter.  
  
Saberpilot. . .if you read this. . . I honestly did not know that you came up with a similar idea. This stuff I wrote has been sitting on my hard drive since Christmas, and I only recently decided to finish the chapter. I can promise you that this fic is going in the opposite direction of yours, though. Still, you published before me. So sorry, sort of.  
  
IMPORTANT: New review policy :) . . .I'm going to try and answer all reviews in my chapters, just for a change of pace. I will go back to my old policy of "screw this" if too many people complain. For now, if you don't like it, then simply use the approved method known as "scroll down" or "ignore".  
  
For information concerning this and any of my other fics, visit my bio. I usually have interesting tidbits such as the amount of chapter completed there.  
  
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THIS FIC IS BASED OFF OF BOTH THE ANIME AND THE MANGA. IN THE MANGA, HARUKO LEAVES NAOTA HER VESPA. IN THE ANIME, HARUKO LEAVES HER BASS GUITAR.  
  
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Living in the Big Machine  
  
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A lever clicks up. The beeping red light alerting any organism present of the change flickers and dies. The illumination of the LED is lost in the pitch of false night. If there were any light, the heat waves would distort one's vision as they rise over quicksilver surfaces and pulse towards the sky, or at least where the sky would be if there wasn't a knotted mess of bolts, pipes, springs, wires, and circuit boards in the way.  
  
Heavy gears clunk and turn. The ka-chunk of the lowering lever echoes. Steam puffs out of thin nickel grates, wafting into the air but never transcending it. It chooses instead to mingle with the breeze, slowly poisoning the nitrogen-based atmosphere. One might notice the irony in the way that the things people create can be their downfall.  
  
And to think that all of this was invented to smooth out the wrinkles in our brains.  
  
Such is life, conceived in the tubes and belly of this mechanical madness. The universe stretches eternally around the big machine, constantly pushing its borders, expanding while at the same time still waiting for the time to come when it will shrink down to the size of a pea (from whence it came). In a repeat performance, the universe, like the pea, will then again stretch and grow its roots in the soil and lift its green towards the sun.  
  
But this universe, in actual working terms, is only the atom of another bigger picture. And that bigger picture is merely a minute part of an even larger, more fantastic verisimilitude.  
  
Likewise, within the metal monster's mouth and coiled up in its curling entrails are more atoms. More protons, neutrons, and electrons.  
  
More smaller planes of reality that are each separately convinced that they alone are the only true path on which to walk.  
  
And in one of these fragments is a black universe. And within this black universe is a sparkling, gyral galaxy. And within this sparkling, gyral galaxy is a silver star. And, eternally orbiting this star is a planet hued in viridian and azure. And on this hued planet is something that less than half of all the other planets in this particular galaxy have: life.  
  
The deep, calm blues of the ocean, the land's choppy brownish greens, and creamy spirals of storms seen from the silence of space create the addictive delusion of perfection on this gently tilting globe. But underneath, from the peaks of the cotton-ball clouds, the decay is revealed.  
  
Smouldering, graying cities stoop in their own decadent filth. Noxious vapors spew from the factories and clog the lungs of Homo sapiens – the predominant sentient species. They hunch their backs and pull their cloaks closer to their unshaven, weathered faces lined not with age but the hardships of life.  
  
One particular gridded framework of buildings and people is very reminiscent of the layout of a computer chip. The cars and people perfectly represent tiny pieces of information traveling from place to place, streaming from one building to another. The buildings themselves are gray blocks but for the exception of the occasional area of private suburban homes with slanted roofs. Even then, from above, all buildings, all people, and all cars look exactly the same; one emaciated head the same as the next, one rusted car no different from any other.  
  
Flashes of nature frequent this scenario. Some of these fields are the few that man hasn't managed to overrun. The dry, faded grass here crackles like candy wrappers and has the consistency of hay. Its famed green coloration is noted in only a few places – like next to the river. This spectacle is overshadowed even then by the presence of man – a concrete bridge framed by welded steel hangs above the crunchy grass.  
  
In a way, it is an analogy for what man believes to be true about nature.  
  
Nothing strange ever happens here.  
  
Except. . .  
  
One structure is a deformity among the pattern established by the blocks below its hill. It is quite unusual in shape. . .  
  
It has smooth, bending silver sides and is completely devoid of windows. If you stand with your nose to its chilly exterior, you will see your own face staring back at you into your eyes. For some unknown reason, there is an onyx appendage perched atop this structure. Upon closer observation, it would appear to be a handle.  
  
In fact, when surveying this edifice from a distance, one would have to comment that it is actually a huge iron with the tip thrust into the ground so it is jutting diagonally from a gentle promontory in the ocean of normalcy.  
  
The events leading up to this mutation in the dismal bowels of a brown, choking city are remembered by a selected few.  
  
One of those bearing said memories is one Nandaba Naota, age fifteen, who is currently straddling the border between dreams and reality.  
  
We can observe this fine specimen of Homo sapien lying lazily in bed this sunny Saturday morning, still asleep though it is noon.  
  
Posters of bands and UFOs smother the walls of this upstairs room. Clothes litter the floor in colorful laundry heaps whose brightness is dulled by the lack of light let in by shut blinds. Dust predominates this habitat, especially settled over an old photograph in a wooden frame on his desk. Vaguely visible through the blankets of dust is a face gone unseen for years but still fresh in memory.  
  
Strawberry hair and peach skin curl around a feral grin. Sunlight eyes burn hotly even through the dust, staring at the lump on the bottom mattress of a bunk bed. The top is empty but for a navy Rickenbacker bass lying there. This bass is, quite possibly, the only thing that isn't covered in fine white particles.  
  
The mess of blankets nestled in the bottom bunk stirs and groans. Shuffling the sheets aside, a pale face and two bleary blue eyes poke out – topped by a wild mess of fine black hair.  
  
For Naota, the first day of summer vacation has just begun. And boy is he ready to start his day. . .  
  
The blankets tangled in Naota's lanky limbs and tripped him up as he attempted to extract himself from the bed. A loud thump signaled the contact between his head and the cool pine floor.  
  
...Or not.  
  
"Itai. . . ." Naota grumbled, rubbing his eye with one fist and giving his room a half-lidded glare with the unoccupied pupil. Slowly, he let the world drift back to him until he remembered where he was and what he was doing here.  
  
Now more fully aware, he disentangled his legs from the sheets and stood, clothed only in a pair of black boxers with little green aliens printed all over them.  
  
Once he recalled what he was aiming to do today, he was suddenly in a rush.  
  
Dashing to his decrepit dresser, he successfully stubbed his big toe on the corner before yanking the drawer open with a bang. Wincing but not allowing himself to slow down, Naota dug through the unfolded – but still clean – shirts shoved deep in its recesses before shoveling out a white t-shirt with a slot machine logo on the front. He snatched a pair of black shorts in a repeat of the above and dressed as quickly as humanly possible. Although he had no real need of it on this warm day, Naota still grabbed his old periwinkle sweater before thumping down the stairs on his way to the kitchen.  
  
The kitchen had unofficially been declared Canti's domain years ago, when the robot was still new to the house. Even now, the scene was much the same – Canti was standing, metal backside facing Naota, with his pink apron securely knotted around his lanky frame. By the sound of it, he was chopping something with a knife.  
  
Though whatever Canti was cooking up smelled good and would probably taste even better, Naota was not in the mood. He had something more important than food to attend to this fine morning. Sneaking around Canti, Naota lunged for the refrigerator and whipped open the door. He thrust his hand inside and caught it on whatever was left in there. As soon as the heavy white door was shut again, Naota bolted.  
  
This action did not go unnoticed by the robot caretaker. His PC monitor head curiously turned on its gears, and a large white question mark lit up the blue screen.  
  
Meanwhile, Naota was still running. He almost crashed into a heap down the two steps that led to the dirt. Luckily, he caught himself at the last moment. He veered off towards the garage only a few feet away, his legs pumping and his breath coming fast in his throat. His cheeks were lightly pink from the exertion he put on his body. He wasn't really in shape anymore, not after having quit baseball all those years ago. Naota had found something else to strive for, ever since that day. . .  
  
Presently, he arrived at the nondescript side door to the garage. Swinging it open with a whining creak, he confidently stepped into the darkness within. To illuminate his surroundings, Naota flicked a light switch.  
  
For a moment, he paused to admire his handiwork. The garage was admirably cleaner than his room, with old decaying matter shoved safely away on plastic shelves. In the center of the clearing, like a holy object from days long gone, was the vespa.  
  
Naota could almost hear the angels singing as he lightly stepped up to the blindingly yellow contraption. It shone in the dusky gloom the single lightbulb overhead could provide. Breathing in the scent of old carbon monoxide, Naota rubbed a nonexistent speck of dust from its gleaming handle. Contrasting sharply with the shiny newness of the vespa was a worn cobalt backpack graying at the edges and stuffed to the brim. It was sprawled unceremoniously on the vespa's jet black leather seat cushion. The food and drinks from the fridge were dumped on top of this bag in one quick motion.  
  
Naota eagerly grasped both handles, an image filling his head. Lint was brushed off of the memories and they became as sparkling as the vespa.  
  
****  
  
Warm lips burned on his. Two delicate hands cupped his cheeks. The tongue that had been so pleasantly invading his mouth stopped, pulling back into luscious red lips. For a few moments, the only sounds were those of two people panting as they struggled to regain their breath. Naota opened his eyes to find her there, undeniably sexy in her unusual attire - a playboy bunny suit this time – even to his younger self. She and him were on their knees, facing each other. Her hypnotic yellow cobra's eyes stared down at his own.  
  
"I'll leave you this hyper flight vespa," she said. "With practice, you'll be able to fly it into outer space too." 


	2. Now Your World Is Way Too Fast

All updates on new chapters to be found in my bio.  
  
A note: I love Canti, I really do. I just need you to see him from Ninamori Eri's point of view, is all.  
  
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Now Your World is Way Too Fast  
  
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The low thrumming of the engine's rev was the purr of a cat. Naota straddled the humming sunshine animal eagerly, strapping the dirty old backpack on as he did so. The noise reverberated in his head, echoing throughout his body. The light bulb flittered from the vibrations caused as the volume careened upwards.  
  
For the final touch, Naota strapped on a padded helmet of a simple make and affixed a pair of clear, thick goggles to his face. They were not the originals that she had always worn, but they would have to do.  
  
Pressing down on the gas a bit harder, Naota snapped a switch on the yellow monster. The sound of a turbine beginning to whirl was added to the already discordant cacophony plunking around in the engine. Naota gently urged the vespa into the air a few inches above the ground when he was certain that the lift fan was at an acceptable speed.  
  
Naota let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. That was one of the hardest parts. On many an occasion prior to this, he had been bucked off the vespa like a rodeo rider from his bronco in those few short seconds. Luckily, the vespa was only wobbling a bit, and Naota found that if he nudged it forward a few feet, he could undo the latch on the small wooden garage doors.  
  
The gates slid open on their hinges quite smoothly – strange, as they hadn't been used since. . .she. . .was here. Crystalline sapphire skies intruded in on the wimpy yellow luster fading in the darkness of the shed. Cotton fluffs puffed across the sky in small clumps. A cricket chirp was drowned out by the combined ruckus of the raucous motors hidden behind paint similar to the hue of the very sun that was shining down on him. Naota smiled.  
  
The grass actually felt greener today.  
  
Naota was about to blast off into the blue, blue sky when he remembered that he'd left something very important behind.  
  
Her Rickenbacker. She'd accidentally left it here, right? The least he could do was give it back. It had been important to her.  
  
Cursing himself for his incompetence, Naota carefully edged the vespa closer to the second story window. He couldn't risk going back down. It was hard enough for him to get on the vespa. Besides, he didn't want his dad or grandfather bugging him about his destination. He could just imagine his father, hands cupped around imaginary breasts. . .or bread, rambling on incoherently about furi kuri. His lips would be curled around enormous square teeth in a grotesque grin and his glasses would shine creepily in the light above a ratty moustache of dark hair. Yuck. Naota hoped he would never end up like that.  
  
Naota shook his head. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand. Hopefully, he would be able to fly the vespa in through his window.  
  
"Stupid Naota, always forgetting things. I'm gonna kill him for this," an alto female voice hissed, as if pained by some heavy burden.  
  
The marketplace was enthusiastically bright with the summer sun. Herds of people mashed around, back and forth, mulling over various items for sale in shops and on the asphalt pavement in colorful booths. The same periwinkle sky shined down on all, allowing for the day to be warm – but not too hot. Sounds of chatter, cooking food, and the occasional shout of vendors peddling their merchandise drowned out the muttered statement about Naota to all.  
  
A girl separated herself from the throng of people, obviously hunting for an escape route. Her long, dark locks matched her aphotic eyes almost exactly, though they were admittedly a few shades lighter. Straight, even bangs cut a stern line across her brow. A business-like black knee length skirt and olive collared shirt clothed her person, accenting her pale skin and gangly figure.  
  
Ninamori Eri, the mayor's daughter, was not happy.  
  
Especially since Naota had forgotten a huge textbook at school. All of his other so-called "friends" had refused to take it to him. Their excuse? Too heavy. And so she was forced to limp around town with a giant literature book in her arms. She'd been too stubborn with her father, who had offered her a ride. She'd told him that it was a nice day out and she would be fine. So now she was beating both herself and Naota up mentally for her calf pain. Eri groaned. She would have been so much better off if she'd just switched her stylish black mary janes for more sensible sneakers. . .  
  
Eri limped back into the crowd, allowing it to carry her for a ways in a blurring, bumping, moving mess of bodies. Eri felt that she was going to be sick very, very soon.  
  
And then she spotted her salvation just a few short yards away, comparing two oranges out of a salesman's wooden bucket.  
  
Eri paddled with all of her remaining energy against the current in the river of people to swim in that direction.  
  
Daylight gleamed in streaks of refulgence along sleek metal surfaces. A thin indigo jacket hid thick arms full of synthetic muscle and wire. Gray, glove-like fingers weighed the two oranges before finally discarding one in favor of the other. Coins were tossed into the vendor's outstretched palm.  
  
"Hey, Canti," Eri finally managed to croak out, her lungs full of the dust cloud rising with the clomping of thousands of feet.  
  
Cantido was probably doing his weekly shopping trip for the Nandaba household.  
  
She was truly thankful to see him. She usually avoided Canti – he made her feel uncomfortable, like she was talking to her toaster – but today was different. Today she needed him to carry stupid Naota's stupid book back to him so she could forget about the long walk there and back in favor of calling her father and asking to be picked up.  
  
A sleek metal head, aerodynamically pointed in the rear, acknowledged Eri's existence by nodding in her direction. The rest of Canti soon faced Eri as well.  
  
His bright screen lit up with the phrase, 'Hello, Ninamori-san.'  
  
She hesitated a second, unnerved by this walking, talking household appliance. Finally, Eri took a deep breath - trying to ignore the dirt drifting in the air - and began to say, "Canti, I have this book of Naota's. I need you to-"  
  
The roar of what sounded something like a jet plane rudely interrupted her. Instantaneously her eyes shot to the sky. Nothing but blue. There wasn't a plane in sight, but there was a small silhouette in the distance that was probably too big to be a bird. It had an unusual, upright shape. A small private plane, maybe?  
  
Cantido's screen followed her line of sight as well, but apparently Canti came to a different conclusion than she.  
  
Twin jet engines ka-chanked out of his smooth spine, ripping through the sweater someone had pathetically tried to cover him with. These immediately lit up, forcing people back in an explosion of flames. Many began screaming in horror and running as if the devil were on their tails, merchandise forgotten in the street.  
  
"CANTI!" Eri screamed over the roar of the rockets, attempting to regain his attention. Undaunted, she shoved her hand out against the immense pressure pushing her back and grabbed his arm. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU DUMB ROBOT?!"  
  
The lit book she had been trying to bring back to Naota flew from her hands in a whirlwind of paper as she made a terrifying new discovery.  
  
She was stuck.  
  
The long sleeve of her olive dress shirt and her Gucci wristwatch were both caught on some metal doodad protruding from Canti's body. She was stuck to a robot that was, for lack of better terminology in her moment of panic, on fire. Eri made a valiant effort to pull away before realizing that it was fruitless. Her only hope now was to grab onto Canti's arm and pray to God that she would live through this. This she did just as Cantido's engines reached full power, hurtling them both through a cloud and into the blue.  
  
And so, three people quite literally disappeared from the face of the earth that fateful summer afternoon.  
  
*********  
  
RR (review response)  
  
Little QS – Thank you. And about the boxers, I just couldn't resist. *grin* 


	3. Nothing's Real and Nothing Lasts

In case you didn't notice, I don't own FLCL. Baka.

All updates and info on my bio.

Nothing's Real and Nothing Lasts

A kaleidoscope of color assaulted his senses. He could hardly see a foot in front of him, even with his protective goggles on; the red was taking over his vision. The wind and air pressure roared in his ears, which he was pretty sure were going to explode at any second. He couldn't even hear the motor, which was thumping in exertion underneath him.

'My head is going to pop off,' Naota bleakly thought, trying to keep said appendage upright. 'And then I'm going to die.'

A low whine started in his throbbing eardrums. Then the migraine set in. The force increased to ten times what it had been before, causing Naota to retch. Luckily, only a little stomach acid came up.

Naota was suddenly glad that he had skipped breakfast in his rush.

But there was still the matter of being crushed like a bug under the weight of Earth's atmosphere. Naota didn't want to even think of having to turn back, not when the direction that involved doing so was down.

Very, very far down.

He leaned closer to the vespa in a desperate attempt to keep his rattling body on the plush leather seat. Air ripped through Naota's clothing like knives, and he would've screamed if he'd had the breath left to do so. Unfortunately, his lungs seemed incapable of functioning. His face was turning blue. Her rosy hair and pointed face appeared in his mind's eye, maniacally mocking him with her laugh.

His fingernails were coming off.

And then the gravity was gone.

_That was about the point where Eri chose to close her eyes in the slim hope that one, this was not real, and two, that she wouldn't puke if she did. Eri's stomach wrenched but she squeezed her eyes tightly and pressed a hand to her abdomen. This was considerably difficult, seeing as how both of her arms were currently wrapped around Canti's lower forearm, but she managed. She always did._

_When Eri finally did pry open her closed lids, she went into shock. Every single muscle in her lanky body tightened and stayed that way for a good ten minutes. Her lips were parted into a huge 'o'. Her mind was numb._

_**Sorry, but Ninamori Eri is not home right now. Your message is of the utmost importance to us. Please leave a message after the beep. BEEEEEEE. . .**_

_After all, it isn't every day that you get an up-close-and-personal view of stars that outnumber the grains of sand on Earth._

And that was the funny thing about stars. Didn't spinning like that twenty- four hours a day, seven days a week, get them dizzy?

Heck, Naota had only been whirling away into the depths of space for three minutes and he was already in a state of vertigo. Not that it really mattered, though, because everyone knows that there isn't really an up or down out there. Nevertheless, Naota still had a green tinge around the gills. The equilibrium in his ears hadn't quite caught up with the rest of his body yet.

Exiting your home planet's atmosphere for the first time in your puny existence (a remarkable display of either bravery or sheer stupidity) can have that effect on you. Naota wasn't sure which it was yet. Maybe when those pretty scarlet spots dancing in his vision went away, he could get a grip on things – like his situation, for example.

Unfortunately for Naota, today just wasn't his day. Funnily enough, he had been convinced that it was only a short while ago. This fading thought was firmly reiterated just before the blackness took over.

_Ugh. Black. Eri had always liked the color before, but now that she was seeing so much of it, she wasn't so sure anymore. Her shock had graduated into a sort of calm disbelief, and she cautiously glanced up at Canti's face....screen.....whatever...._

_It whirred on its axis in a fashion that made him appear to be looking for something. Not that Eri was a particularly good judge of mechanical thought processes._

_Speaking of thought processes, her mind was firmly trying to establish a normal thought process, i.e. by pretending that this wasn't happening (like most humans tend to do when faced with something blatantly un-banal). This was very hard to accomplish, especially because of her present position. I mean, technically, she should've been dead at least a few minutes ago when they'd been exiting the atmosphere. Eventually her mind would give up and accept her surroundings, but until then, Eri had to close her eyes once more. She succumbed to the darkness of her own head._

'_Fucking dumbass robots with their fucking stupid programming errors with dumbfuck contraptions that come out just to catch people like me and pull them into hell....fuck....'_

And then He said unto Them, "Let there be Light."

Or something like that, anyway. Close enough. And there really was light, although probably not the kind Naota was expecting.

The warm sun burned down on him, setting his prone body on fire.

Until he opened his tightly shut lids, and abruptly closed them again.

Then sun seemed to be only a foot away from his nose. Naota's thoughts scattered back into the river Denial. The water was cooler there, what with the winter chill accompanying the ice floes that drifted passed. Naota had sunk into it up to his eyeballs when he realized that there was kind of a discordant melody going on around him.

Heavy, lumped words gutturally swung around in a foreign tongue accompanied by clicking and chirping sounds that couldn't possibly be made by the human vocal chords. It sounded angry, although this observation was made judging from the standards of Homo sapiens and therefore not necessarily factual.

'Great,' Naota internally moaned. 'I've been captured by aliens and now they're gonna take out the anal probes and other shiny prodding things....if only she could see me now...she'd laugh...this sucks...'

He turned his face away from the blaze above and tried opening his eyes again, in the hope that there would be better results (although generally anything's better for seeing than being blinded by light).

This time, the sight of a monster greeted him. Or what he thought was a monster. The thing that stared back at him thought, in its own language, that he was pretty ugly too. An almost hairless body wasn't very attractive to its, or should we say his, kind.

He definitely wasn't a little green invader from Mars.

For starters, he was large. Almost seven feet in height, he was covered in a powdery snow fur. Three equally fuzzy tails twitched on the ground, and long, impala-like limbs formed four firm legs underneath a gaunt torso, though not in a fashion resembling a horse. Rather, they were close together and gave him a sort of wobbling gait that was not shaky at all if he should chose to run or jump, because that was what the muscle-and-bone appendages had been designed for. Although the torso was vaguely human in nature, it was missing a set of arms. A dainty, ferret-ish head graced the shoulders, accentuated by a slender neck.

Around him, shiny white floors, walls, and strange panels at about waist height curved away into the distance.

It was the old joke you do with a piece of blank paper, only in real life. A white rabbit in a snowstorm with its eyes closed.

Only this 'rabbit' could be distinguished by the large, round black eyes that reflected everything in the room. Naota thought it was creepy being able to see yourself in someone else's eye. For the owner of the set, it was kind of like having permanent sunglasses.

One resembling it swam into Naota's vision. He couldn't possibly have known, but this was a female. She was similar to the male, but she was smaller and her fur was a creamy color. Elegantly curled whiskers framed her pointed face – the male lacked these. They spoke in their singsong tones, interrupted by changes in position and chirping as they apparently held a conversation.

Naota couldn't think for a few long minutes that seemed like an eternity. He wanted to tell himself that nothing weird ever happens here, especially to him, but he wasn't in Mabase anymore.

He tried to ask if anyone spoke Japanese, but it came out more like, "Unnnnnngh..."

And where were those anal probes?

He wasn't very good with words anyway.

This did catch his captors' attention, though. Conversation stopped. They sidled over to him awkwardly in a single file line, the female ducking behind the larger male and peeking her head out from behind the barrier of his body.

Their strange gazes penetrated him as if he were the freak show, not them.

"Hello," Naota said dully. He meant to ask them what was going on, but his throat had constricted when he noticed a long white object sporting a shiny metal end appear in the coils of the larger one's third tail. It was now only a yard from his face.

Well, that answered his question about the anal probe, then.

Moonside Mango – Thank you for the compliment on Ninamori. I actually had to rewrite some stuff in the second chapter in order to better her characterization. .;


	4. I'm in Love But You Don't Care

Updates n' stuff on bio. Duh. If you want to know why this update took so freakin' long, its on my bio too.  
  
This chapter was hard to write...-.-  
  
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I'm in Love But You Don't Care  
  
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Apparently, the anal probe had a screen affixed near one end. Naota had no idea what purpose this served, as he was transfixed with the idea that it would soon be heading up his colon.  
  
Frankly, he was surprised to see his clothes still attached to his body. His backpack, goggles, vespa, and rickenbacker were nowhere in sight.  
  
It twitched again, closer still to his face. Naota stared at it, transfixed.  
  
Motion ceased. The prodding point had stopped an inch away from Naota's nose.  
  
Naota instantly had a horrible vision of a giant metal poker being shoved up his nostril and bursting forth from the rear of his empty cranial cavity.  
  
It wavered in front of his face for a fraction of a century.  
  
Naota finally noticed that the background noise had quieted. The ferret- beings had been speaking in their foreign tongue all throughout Naota's internal monologue, and only now did he realize it.  
  
"Are you a Gaian?" an automated voice asked, surprisingly in Japanese. This question was promptly repeated in English, German, French, Spanish, Mandarin, Hindu, and Swahili.  
  
At this point, Naota found that the voice was being projected from the tip of the rod. The aliens stared at him expectantly. Naota's mind – or what was left of it – fired a blank.  
  
"What's a Gaian?" was the first comprehensible phrase to come from his mouth.  
  
The ferret twiddled a dial on the machine. It shot out a remark sounding quite similar to the language the two creatures had been speaking. The ferret replied to this statement in the end of the gadget that he was holding.  
  
"Perhaps you do not call it that. Gaia, Chikyuu, Earth, Kiwanja. KK-03. What would you prefer? Is that where you are from?"  
  
Naota turned to contemplate a nondescript white wall. He could relate.  
  
"Yeah. I guess so," he muttered, not really expecting the beast or his gadget to hear.  
  
"What is your destination?" asked the creature.  
  
Naota shifted uncomfortably. From the corner of his eye – not that he was looking or anything – the awe-inspiring creature was level with him now. He could feel its twin globes of darkness penetrating him like absolute zero.  
  
"I...don't....know," Naota admitted.  
  
"KK-O3 does not have the technology to do what you have just done," the ferret informed him. "Where did you get the vehicle? And the instrument?"  
  
Naota hesitated. His eyes flicked towards the beast before him. He tried a polite glance before his eyes dropped to the floor. It was the same color as the wall.  
  
"I'm looking for someone," Naota conceded. "She left those things on Earth by accident. I'm trying to return them...to her."  
  
The ferret-creature's eyes crinkled up in what proved to be amusement. The female, who was still hiding behind him, had the same reaction. Snorts and chittering came from their direction. Naota belatedly recognized that it was laughter.  
  
An angry blush quickly spread across Naota's cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears.  
  
"What's so funny?" he demanded quietly, gritting his teeth.  
  
Slowly, the laughter died away. The beast bared its inch-long incisors at Naota in what might be termed a feral grin. That, or he was just angry.  
  
"How old are you? What is your status in your society?" it growled.  
  
"I'm 15," Naota replied. The red flush still burned his cheeks. "I'm a teenager."  
  
"You are but a naïve child!" it hissed. "You are one insignificant speck from a backwater planet! The universe is larger than you think it is, boy, and it certainly doesn't revolve around YOU!"  
  
Naota froze until a defensive reaction finally kicked in. If there was anything he hated being called more than anything, it was...  
  
"A child?!" Naota burst out. Frankly, he was amazed that he could release this much emotion at one time. Before, he'd always thought that if he let too much out at once then it would all flood out, like a leaky dam. He could feel his subconscious trying to nail wood over the holes in a futile effort. "I'm not a child!!!!!!"  
  
"And now you sound even more like one."  
  
Naota's head started aching quite acutely. He put his head in his hands and groaned. It was probably jetlag, scratch that, 'vespa-lag' kicking in. And all those three-sixties out in space probably hadn't improved his condition.  
  
All he could manage to mumble was, "Just leave me alone."  
  
"Fine. We shall return later, when you have a more accurate picture of reality."  
  
With that, the ferret-man and his ferret-wife scurried out of the room. A swoosh indicated that the white door had blocked them from sight.  
  
Naota lay back down on the uncomfortably hard – but spotlessly clean – bed.  
  
And this is what he dreamt.  
  
Smoke. Whisps. Fog.  
  
It burned his eyes.  
  
Strangely enough, there was no fire.  
  
A pink blur swam past his fuzzy vision. He suddenly realized who it was, but she was already yards away. His head swung like a seesaw. Molasses air tugged on his limbs, dragging him down as he made a break for her.  
  
"Come back!!!" Naota shouted, his voice hoarse. His eyes stung with tears caused by the searing haze. He coughed on it as it threatened to strangle him and pull him down into the darkness at his feet. A panic overtook him. What the hell could he say that would make her stop?! What would make her listen?! Oh god...  
  
"I LOVE YOU!" he cried out.  
  
The silence that followed stretched for millennia.  
  
And then –  
  
"Takkun, I'm going to kill you."  
  
**************  
  
AluminiumDonut – Arigatou ^_^  
  
Angemon900 – I understand that it may be harder to follow, but I actually did that consciously because I felt like being different from how other writers do their scene changes. Still, I appreciate your review because it is constructive criticism. Thanks. : ) 


	5. Turn Your Anger Into Lust

Updates and info on bio. A few new stories have been planned.  
  
Updates will come more frequently, now that school is out.

* * *

Turn Your Anger Into Lust

* * *

> The torrent of internal profanity slowed to a drizzle. Eri always tried to hide that side of herself. The mayor's daughter was perfect; she didn't _dream_ of unleashing a vulgar tongue. That was why Eri was glad that no one could read her mind. Anyway, she only reverted to that state when under severe stress. She didn't always curse everything within sight.  
  
In fact, she was calming down now. Just a few more "ohhhhhmmmmms" and she would be perfectly sane again. Nirvana was close at hand. In five minutes, she'd be there.  
  
"Canti," she called up to the robot.  
  
Cantido shifted so his screen was facing towards her. He gently lifted her up until she was safe in both of his steely arms. His screen read, 'Are you better now, Ninamori-san?'  
  
"Much," Eri frowned. She glared at her mechanical kidnapper. "Now that I've gotten over the shock of you whisking me off to outer space, would you care to explain yourself?"  
  
Eri didn't realize how fast they'd been going until the stars came into focus. A blue haze shone around them both, presumably protecting them from the menacing death on all fronts.  
  
'Are you not worried about Naota-san?' the monitor asked. If those words had been spoken aloud, they would have carried a hint of misgiving. As it was, Eri just stared uncomprehendingly at her captor.  
  
Eri thought for a moment. Naota was back on Earth, while a household appliance was carrying her through the unknown and asking her if she was worried about him. Right now, she was more preoccupied with her present position than Naota's.  
  
"I don't see what that has to do with anything," Eri huffed.  
  
I mean, Naota was probably still hiding in his garage, tinkering with his stupid vespa. Every time she'd been over for the last few weeks, that was where he'd been. She'd asked him to come get ice cream, to go to the river, and even to play baseball. No, no and no. Too busy, too busy, and too busy.  
  
Slowly and deliberately, kanji appeared on Canti's screen.  
  
'The vespa took him here.'  
  
He let the words sink into Eri's head. An image emerged, one burnished into the wrinkles of her brain.  
  
A dot on the horizon, barely visible in the gleaming day. An upright, floating black speck. The roar of an engine, struggling to escape the atmosphere.  
  
Ah, shit.  
  
Eri wanted to scream that it wasn't possible, vespas couldn't fly, but that brought her back to how impossible her own situation was. So she really had no choice but to believe Canti. She wasn't sure, but she didn't think that Canti had the ability to lie – not that she trusted the automaton or anything. And the motor had that all-too-familiar rumble that she had heard a few times in the past. . .although the person usually associated with the noise she'd rather not think about.  
  
"But where is he going?! What could he possibly want with. . ." Eri vented, mostly to herself.  
  
A sudden, burning feeling built up in the pit of her stomach.  
  
Unrequited love sucked. Or maybe it was just a crush; Eri didn't have these sort of emotions very often, so she wasn't sure. After years of being duly ignored, she would have thought she could give it up by now. She despised this sensitivity. It was a weakness in her character that she couldn't forgive. If there was something she wasn't, it was a hopeless romantic.  
  
So why wouldn't it go away?  
  
At least this bitterness gave her a clearer picture of why Naota had left Mabase behind.  
  
Eri clenched her fists tighter around Canti's arm. And so it would continue, the endless merry-go-round of chasing after someone you couldn't reach. Up and down, until you were dead.  
  
She'd worked herself into such a fine funk that she didn't notice there was new text on Cantido's face until he gently prodded her. A new interface had come up – a navy screen with bold white lettering.  
  
It read, '**Destination: KI-12. . .Starchart pending. . .**'  
  
And as the spiritual revelations of Siddhartha Gautama came to him underneath the Sacred Tree, so too the espial of Ninamori Eri came as she was meandering through an astral plane that was not so much metaphysical as material.  
  
Maybe she shouldn't fight the cycle. What was there left in Mabase worth living for, anyway?  
  
_. . .her father, at his desk, shooing Eri out of the office because his presentation was due the next day, and the product had to be out by the week after that, and there was an important business trip to Hawaii only days after that. . .  
_  
_. . .her mother, car keys in hand, stepping out the front door while exclaiming behind her that dinner was in the fridge, or pizza could be ordered, because she had tennis lessons to attend, a shopping spree to go on, friends to entertain, and could you be a dear and go upstairs, Eri, dear? I have to take this call. . .  
_  
Everyone had no time to spend with her. Well, now she was going to spend her time as she damn well pleased, and right now that meant going with Canti, even if he was some dumb robot, to a whole new world.  
  
"How will that help us find Naota?" Eri questioned, dropping the somewhat whiny tone she'd had before. Her black eyes were steel.  
  
'**Program 'Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy' activated. . .searching 'KI-12'. . .results pending. . .**'  
  
Eri blinked, and the screen changed.  
  
'**KI-12: Known as Gfjkiosa by its native inhabitants, this is one of the major information centers/technological outposts around. . . besides the Guide's HQ, of course, folks, which you definitely want to visit. . .A bit on the outskirts of the multiverse, so try the Guide's HQ instead. . .Oh come on now, shameless advertising is all the rage these days, really. . .**'  
  
"Let's go," Eri said.  
  
A halo of blinding light meshed them into a cylinder while Canti's solid rocket boosters booted up. A flash, and they were no longer visible among the stitched silver stars on the blanket of deep space.

* * *

LilHaruko – Heh. I know you said to update soon, but duty called (aka school). This chapter dedicated to you, and also to Feyla Costu (for both of you wanting more).  
  
Feyla Costu – Thanks. I know it needs more, and hopefully it'll be speeded up in coming chapters. 


	6. I'm Still Here You don't Trust at All

Back from the dead….o.o. Sorry this is so short, but I desperately needed a jump-start for this story.

**I'm Still Here, But You Don't Trust at All**

Gone. Wasted were the last three hours or so of his life, mostly spent alternating stoned expressions at the utterly unresponsive walls, floor, and ceiling. Naota had tried a couple of the oddly-shaped panels closest to him (ones that were close enough so that he wouldn't have to actually get up and look interested), but to no effect.

He lay back, hoping to return to the void of unconsciousness, but to actually do so would require either a) knocking himself out or b) falling asleep. Naota shifted positions, awake despite his permanently sluggish attitude. He fiddled with the cords of his sweater, glared at the obnoxiously colorless ceiling, and weighed his options.

Oh, wait. The only option was to wait until someone took interest in him again. The feeling was familiar, and on some level hidden deep inside, it really pissed Naota off – mainly because this had happened on countless other occasions.

Only a tool. Like a screwdriver. Or a hammer. An object easily used, tossed aside, and broken. It was hard not to be lame.

Swoosh – click.

Naota sat up. The door had slid open, revealing the ferret-monsters once again. A scowl settled on his face, complete with dead eyes. He braced himself for the expected verbal jabs. The rod, now identified as a translation device, was thrust at him. This time, the one to speak was the delicate female creature.

"Do you have some sort of identification?" she asked, long curling eyelashes fluttering at him.

"Huh?" was Naota's intelligent reply.

"Of the female you are searching for."

"No," Naota replied. Internally, he pictured the rotting picture frame on his desk at home, covered with dust. "But- she's looking for someone called the Pirate King."

The ferret-people drew back, their doe eyes wide. A hurried conversation occurred, untranslated by the strange rod device.

The male snatched the rod from the female, swooping protectively in front of her in the same instant.

"We cannot help you," the male grumbled.

Suddenly, a swift movement had the pointy gadget in control of the female again.

"But take this translator with you. Four suns knows, you will be needing it," the female clucked.

Naota never had a mother, a real one, but he was suddenly reminded of an incandescent, ghostly touch flung far across the dead sea of his memory. Still dreaming, he was gently led back to his vespa, his backpack, his quest. He vaguely remembered waving the rod in front of the two aliens before blasting off into space.

"That childling had better watch himself," the male alien surmised. "I hope this will be enough."

Naota never had a real father either.

**Review Response**

Madi: As for you, fkuc you, my old chum. I know the story needs to move faster…just let me work up to that.

Travins: Thank you. Actually, your random review showing up made my day so I decided to update.


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